


The Warmest Winter

by Black_Dawn, CrushedRose



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Fluff, Gifts, Holidays, M/M, Mystrade Advent Calendar 2017, Snow, snowballs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 19:10:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13060323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Dawn/pseuds/Black_Dawn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrushedRose/pseuds/CrushedRose
Summary: The first warm winter of two collided souls..





	The Warmest Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Authors note: If the story seems familiar it's because it is . This little piece takes place between Chapters 40 and 41 of our last joined story “Our souls collided before we met”. Although this is a little added extra, it will stand alone on its own. A few references may seem confusing if you haven’t read especially the discussion about the ‘dream’ and ‘shooting’. Also if you haven’t read that, go read it, it is good, promise.  
> We hope this piece makes you smile and giddy, makes a seed in your mind and will treasure it.  
> Much love  
> ChrusedRose and Daynaan.

** The Warmest Winter **

****

Feather light whispers of long pale fingers travelled up…and down…in small leisurely movements.  Up….and down…all across the tanned back, the muscles hardly moved, the skin, however welcomed every touch, every caress like oxygen to a starved soul. 

Dark eye lashes flutter open and brown eyes squinted in the early morning light.  His brain woke him up, to the soft strokes against his back and felt his skin erupt in small goose bumps. 

He could feel the mattress deepening next to him and then a whisper tickling in his ear.

“From your response I take it you’re waking up.”   Greg didn’t even bother to answer, after all he was right, instead he just shifted a bit closer to the warm body next to him, from the way the hand travelled a bit lower before moving back up, he made a good choice. With a deep breath Greg relaxed more and gave himself over to the touch, his eyes flick once, twice and then close again.

Mycroft leaned into the skin, his hand quite low on Greg’s back, more over the curve of his butt, close to his hip; he inhaled the scent of Gregory, his dear Gregory, just above the shoulder blade before he placed a soft kiss on the skin.

Greg mouth turned into a grin as the kissed continued going higher over his shoulder into his neck as his hand moved lower over his hip. 

He allowed Mycroft to turn him around before he reached with his free hand to cup Mycroft’s face and kissed him.  

Their tongues danced the familiar dance, exploring mouths and souls and Greg used the opportunity to shift so he was straddling him.  His legs on either side of Mycroft’s hips, Mycroft hands on his thighs holding him tight. 

“You’re embarking on quite a dangerous road Mr. Holmes, who knows where it would lead?”  Greg murmured between kisses, tracing Mycroft’s jaw line, kissing the pulse point in his neck, the small vein throbbing as his heart rate increased, Greg’s grin turned wicked.

Mycroft’s hand glided up from his thighs to the curve of his arse.

“I am not afraid of the danger as I’m facing it with you, and to where it leads….”  Mycroft squeezed Greg’s flesh tightly and reach up to kiss him again.  Greg was more than happy to oblige.

*****

It was the smell of a true English breakfast that lulled Mycroft from his sleep, it was intoxicating, especially the bacon and the hint of tea…and eggs…it was it all.   He stretched out his long legs and took deep breath before he turned onto his back, his arm reaching towards Greg’s side on its own accord. 

It was met with a cold and empty space.  Mycroft opened his eyes and looked to the side, Greg’s drawstring trousers and shirt was gone that meant he got up early to make some breakfast. 

A wonderful breakfast by the smell of it. 

Removing the blanket he slowly got out of the bed, stretching again as he stood up.  He reached for the curtains and opened them widely.  It was a truly picturesque scene outside, the snow was thick and fluffy all around, the treetops, the grass, the hedges, it was a white wonderland and it was theirs. 

Pulling on his gown and slipping on his slippers he made his way to the kitchen, the smell just too tempting to ignore. 

Greg was in the kitchen and oblivious to the man standing in the doorway, watching him with the most loving face in the world.

Mycroft was completely amazed at this man, who loved him so much, who spoiled him every chance he got, small things and little things, like this breakfast, no one has ever done so much effort to feed him, and his mother didn’t count.  

 

Mycroft tilted his head to make out the words Greg was softly singing, listening in wonder as Greg can keep a tune without music, his voice was good, very good. 

He could make out certain sentences, ‘ _and when our worlds they fall apart….when the walls come tumbling in…though we may deserve it…it will be worth it…_.*’ he sang before humming the rest as he put two slices of bread in the toaster. 

 

Mycroft had become so accustomed to Greg and his habits, his moods and his mind-set just by the songs he would sing, whistle, hum or beat out on his fingers.  

He slowly made his way to Greg and wrapped his arms around Greg’s waist; Greg immediately grabbed his hands and lifted his head so it would fit into the crook of Mycroft’s neck.  Mycroft reached down and kissed the pulse point on his neck before he trailed small butterfly kisses up to his ear.

“Everything we are is worth it, no more walls, just us…” he whispered in Greg’s ear. 

Greg smiled widely and turned around to look into Mycroft’s eyes.

“I know…Love, just a song I like to sing sometimes.”  Greg gave him a reassuring smile and then pointed back to the table.

“Breakfast is ready, if you would be so kind as to set the table?”  Mycroft hesitantly let go of Greg to add the final touched to the breakfast.

“Gregory, you made breakfast for an army.”

“Well….after this morning….and the rest of the stay I need my food.” Mycroft stared at Greg and kept his face as straight as possible.

“I’d hope so.”

*****

By the time breakfast was done and they were finally dressed it was nearly late morning early afternoon, since they had no plans to leave the small cottage for the next two days, they needed to stock up on a few things.  “ Luss” was the closest village nearby and within walking distance.  Hand in hand they walked down the small streets towards the shop. 

The streets were full of snow with salt scattered in the road for the cars, pedestrians have made small pathways in the snow from all the walking.  The air was crisp and cold, but the atmosphere was warm and jubilant.

Christmas decorations and festivities lined the streets and shops in the most pleasant and inviting manner, neither Greg nor Mycroft hardly glanced at it, both not keen on Christmas, but more than happy for the break to be together, the chance to make a new tradition, a new life for them.

Across the small street was a little park and children were running around playing, some were making snow angels, some snowman, others were in a light-hearted snowball fight.  The laughter filled the air and just as the couple walked past a stray snowball hit Greg on his shoulder.  The snowball puffed as it scattered against his jacket, falling on the ground in small flakes.  Greg stopped and turned to the boys, some was smiling, and some staring in fear.  Greg’s face broke out in huge smile before he grouched down, gather the remaining cluster of snow, and added some more and rounded it in a ball.  He stood up, his hand in the air.

“Run!” He cried out and with a very good arm, threw the ball in their direction, the ball landed against his target, a boy’s leg. 

Mycroft watched the whole exchange with wonder and amazement, marvelling in the way Greg’s face lit up with joy.

“You really love this, don’t you?”  He asked when Greg finally reclaimed his hand and they set off down the street again.

“Snowball fights?  Yeah, they’re great and loads of fun.  We used to do it when we were lads in our grandparent’s garden; it was always a mission to get us back in the house.”  Greg recalled fondly, and it made Mycroft’s heart skipping a beat.  He will always be mesmerized by this man sharing his life so willingly.

“Did you play in the snow when you were kids?”  Greg asked, breaking Mycroft’s reverie.  Mycroft looked off into the distance as he remembered, answering Greg with a voice with sadness and wistfulness.

“Yes…once…before it all changed….”

Greg felt horrible; he didn’t mean to open wounds and memories that were best left alone.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”  He replied softly. Mycroft took a breath and smiled at Greg.

“You didn’t, not all memories were bad and filled with pain, but that is maybe something to discuss at a later stage, right now is for us, and our time.  We have the rest of our lives, and this is our first winter holiday and we should make it ours, and wonderful.”

“Agreed.”  Greg replied and squeezed Mycroft’s hand as they started walking again.  There is still so much in their past and lives to share and discover, both good and bad, but this time and this holiday is their first alone, the first away from everything and this is their chance to build something good. 

The fact that Mycroft shares his thoughts about their relationship being permanent filled him with hope and gladness as he feels the exact same way.

He already met Mycroft’s family, Sherlock is some character, and he has the vague suspicion, he will make their lives…interesting…is the best word he can find at the moment. He also get along wonderfully with Mycroft’s parents, they were genuinely surprised when Mycroft told them he was in a relationship, and it was serious, very serious after one week of dating Greg, but their story started many years ago, and Greg felt the same. 

He did however have the vague suspicion that somewhere there was more hidden secrets, some skeletons, but in due time it would be revealed.  This time now, however is for them.  With his hand in Mycroft’s, they continued on their path and to shop.

Walking home was another story all together, Mycroft refused to carry on holding the ‘old-lady shopping trolley’ with their groceries, Greg had no qualms as it was better to wheel an ‘old-lady trolley’ than carrying several bags.  Both knew that, that settled the future debate on who will be going to the shops…and carrying the – or wheeling – the trolley.  Greg didn’t mind, it just made things easier than several bags. 

They passed the small park, but this time it was empty, it was already a bit late in the afternoon.  Mycroft looked around and then stopped, grouching down and gathering some snow in his hands, oblivious Greg continued to take a few steps, unaware that Mycroft had stopped and was busy with a plan.

 

The first ball hit him square on his back and when he turned around Mycroft was several feet away, shrugging and holding two balls in his hand.  He hid just in time behind the ‘old-lady trolley’ when another one went over his head.  This gave him adequate time to prepare his own ball…and that is how the ‘The Great Battle of Scotland’ begun between two Englishmen, making memories.

*****

By the time they got home, they were exhausted and their jackets wet with the snow, as well as their hair.  Greg moved the trolley close to the table so they could unpack quickly.

“We were supposed the just get the essentials, Gregory.”  Mycroft breathed out as he started packing the groceries away that Greg unloaded.

“Yeah, welcome to shopping, it never turns out like that.” Greg replied with a smile, they did indeed go for the essentials but bought more.  There was mulled wine, shortbread biscuits, chocolate eclairs, hot chocolate, beer, scotch, small Christmas puddings and small fruit cake….a bit different from the veggies, meat and milk, they planned on, luckily that was there too….

Together they quickly put everything in its place. 

“Well that is done, I think we should go have a shower, my trousers are wet and uncomfortable and my feet are cold, and my hair is wet from the snowball fight.”

“It’s your own fault, you started the fight.”  Greg replied as looked at Mycroft’s hair, it was indeed wet, and dried some, but without product or a brush, it was quite unruly and curly, which he adored. 

“And won.”  Mycroft replied smugly. Greg shook his head.

“No…we stopped at a draw…no winners no losers…”

“Maybe in a democracy my dear, but this is a monarchy…”

“Oh. So the king wins regardless…”

“Exactly.”

“But we have a Queen…”

“We all play our roles my dearest; now let’s go enjoy that big bath….”

*****

The steam covered the bathroom the mirror looked sandblasted but the two men didn’t care one bit.  The water was warm and relaxing their muscles, Mycroft against the bathtub with Greg nestled between his legs.   Mycroft’s hands were on his shoulders, his fingers kneading and removing knots from the muscles.  Greg was leaning forward, his hair wet and spiky, each strand on its own direction. 

“Aaaaaaaaahhhhhheeeee.”  Greg would groan out loud.

“Is it necessary to make those noises?” Mycroft asked as he moved up towards the neck.

“God yes…your hands…magic…ooooh right there…aaaaahhh.”

“I’m glad my hands are of such use to you.” 

“If I knew your hands were magic like this, I would’ve stopped that cab and arrest you for it.”  Greg jested and moved his hands towards Mycroft’s legs next to his; squeezing it slightly to make sure he meant it as a joke. 

“Only for my hands?  The horror…” Mycroft stopped massaging and wrapped his hands and arms around Greg’s torso.

“I’ll have you know my dearest Inspector…these hands come with a license…and great skills….”

Greg leaned back towards Mycroft’s chest.

“If that is your attempt to frighten me, I must admit it is having the opposite effect…” Mycroft’s blushes was hard to see with the hot water but Greg knew it was there, he chuckled softly and Mycroft nuzzled his neck before removing his hands and massaging again this time a bit lower to the shoulder blades.  

That is when the light atmosphere changed for Mycroft; his left thumb traced over the scar, a small line still red, but eventually will turn into a sliver of white. 

 

The memories rushed back the shock in the brown eyes before he slumped to the ground, the choke of breath as his lungs filled with blood, the blood on his clothes, so red, so loud.  His body tensed up as he recalled the memories, he didn’t want to, sometimes his mind just does its own thing when it comes to Gregory. 

 

Greg immediately felt the stiffness in Mycroft’s body, the thumb frozen on his scar.  He immediately turned around, splashing some water over the tub edge but he didn’t care.  His one hand went down to the bottom of the tub to keep him up, while the other cupped around Mycroft’s face.

“Hey…come on, come back to me….”  Mycroft blinked several times before he looked at Greg.

“I…I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologise, your mind was a bit loud there for a moment thinking about me getting shot, it’s over let it go…”

“How did you know?”

“I’m a detective for a reason, and I know you by now too…” Greg smiled softly reassuring Mycroft who calmed down considerably.

“My mind has a habit of doing its own thing when you are concerned.”  Mycroft tried to explain, his hands holding Greg close.  Greg laughed softly.

 

“I’m glad, you deserve to be a bit spontaneous every now and then and I’m quite happy that it is with me.”

“Me too.”  Mycroft admitted shyly, which caused Greg to grin widely and pulled Mycroft in for a kiss.   It grew heated very quickly.  Greg was the first to break off, trying to get his breath back.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom.”

“Okay…best probably…”  Mycroft uttered and pushed Greg to get out first rushing after him, hardly drying off properly as he pulled Greg into a kiss, his hands drying him instead of the towel, Greg’s hands did the same, trying to climb into Mycroft as they stumbled to the bed, fusing together becoming one in every way.

 

The layer of snow outside was higher than the day before, a soft wind blowing outside but inside the house, it was warm and comfortable.  Greg and Mycroft lay tangled up together, still naked fast asleep and both relaxed.

 

*****

They wake up later in the morning again without the aid of an alarm, the perfect holiday.  They got dressed in a very slow manner, sharing the shower again, and then kisses all over before clothes were put on.  It was nearly noon when they finally made it to the kitchen both starving and in dire need of some coffee and tea. 

 

While Greg made breakfast, Mycroft added wood to the fire, making the room warmer.

 Mycroft opened the curtains widely, watching the snow covering the earth, falling slowly and softy as if to preserve their little bubble of peace.  Mycroft felt like he was in a snow globe, isolated from the world, just him and Greg, perfect and serene, without a worry or care in the world.

 

Greg brought their tray of food into the living room, putting it on the small table in front of the sofa, the tray was loaded with mulled wine, shortbread, toast, fruit, yogurt, coffee, tea, mince pies, small quiches, anything they might feel like.  They sat down on the sofa each with a plate of food, just basking in the moment, watching the snow falling.  Mycroft also put on the radio to some classical station and soft piano sounds danced with the silence and comfort, relaxing them even more.

 

They ate in silence, both quite hungry. It was only when their plates were nearly empty when Greg turned to Mycroft.

“My…”

“Hmmm.”

“Did you ever…you know…”  He waved his hand around the room and between them, hoping Mycroft would understand what he is trying to say.

“Think that I – us - could be so lucky?”  Mycroft asked.  Greg nodded.

“Yeah…”

 Mycroft was silent for a while, thinking trying to compose the right words as he thought.  He looked off over Greg’s shoulder as he spoke.

“When I was in the coma, the dream….it was…it was the most powerful thing that had ever happened in my life, the detail my mind put into it…the thing is though…if I never met you for that brief moment, I never would’ve had that dream…”

“You could’ve had another dream.”  Greg softly replied. Mycroft vehemently shook his head.

“No, it would’ve been a nightmare; you were the only good memory I had in a long time for my mind to fall back on to protect me.”

“My…”

“I never thought I would be so lucky, only something for dreams, yet here I am, with you, and you are more than what I could ever dream of, you made real so much better, the fact is Gregory, it was you at the beginning, it is you now, and it will be you in the future, real or dream, it will always be you.”  Mycroft finally stared into Greg’s eyes as he spoke, a small tear pooling up in the corner of his eye, not falling, just resting there, sparkling. 

Greg put his plate down and reached over cupping Mycroft’s cheeks like yesterday in the bath.

“I love you, more than I ever thought possible, more than I ever read about; my soul is home when with you.   You know me and my story…”  Mycroft reached up and Greg let go of Mycroft’s face to take his hands, their fingers interlocking.  Greg went on.

“I never like holidays, especially the December ones, I would see people and wondered if they knew what they have, if it would last, if they would fight for it, and then I met you, and I know, I would, fight, whatever it takes, I know now, I was waiting for my time, my moment and I realize now, I was waiting for you.”

This time the tear did fell from Mycroft’s eye, and a second one followed it, Greg leaned over and kissed it away before he pulled Mycroft into an embrace and the both sat there, just basking in each other’s arms, in each other’s home.

 After all both knew the other was their home.

When they finally let go and sat back Greg smiled widely.

“What?”  Mycroft asked not trusting that look.

“I got you a present…”

“I thought you don’t like Christmas holidays and shopping?”

“I don’t, but I like you and you’re worth it all. Wait here.” Mycroft watched as Greg jumped up and rushed to the bedroom, he came back a few seconds later holding a small black wrapped box.  Mycroft stared at it as Greg sat back on the sofa, handing it to him.

“Here. For you.”

“What is it?”

“Open it and find out.”

Mycroft glanced quickly at Greg and then slowly removed the wrapping.  He tried to keep his focus on Greg, but this was their first holiday and in all honesty this is one of the first presents he received in years. 

 

Greg on the other hand, knew what it was so he could keep his eyes on Mycroft he whole time and it melted his heart to see the utter joy and hidden excitement in his eyes.  It made him look years younger and it would certainly be something he would remember for a very long time. 

 

With the wrapping gone, it was a soft royal blue velvet box, too big for a ring and a bit small for a watch, depending on the watch, Greg knows he won’t wear big watches around his….arm….Mycroft stared and stared…as he opened the box the fire caught the gold chain that lead to…a watch…not just any watch.

A beautiful golden pocket watch.  It was magnificent. 

“Uhmmmm Do you like it?”  Greg hesitantly asked. His anxiety was reaching new levels and he had to concentrate to sit still.  Mycroft ran his finger down the chain and touched the watch afraid to leave fingerprints on the intricate design.

“This…my dearest this is magnificent…I’m speechless…”  He tried to explain, a blush on his face that such a thing could make him lost for words.  Greg’s grin got ten times wider.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, most certainly.”

“Good…I remember you had one the first time I saw you back in the beginning at the cab, but not again since we met again.  I admit I missed that actually.”  Mycroft looked up.

“You did?  You do?”

Greg nodded again.

“I had one…it was my grandfather’s, I don’t usually wear heirlooms but that that day I did, anyway it got irreparably broken, I haven’t fixed it yet, not sure if it would be the same…but this…I will wear this every day and keep it safe, I promise.” 

“I know…just like me…you don’t wear me…”  Greg tried to lighten the situation and it worked as Mycroft let out a snort but nevertheless agreed.

“Hey you didn’t open it yet…”

Mycroft looked back at Greg in surprise wanting to ask if there was more and Greg nodded.  Mycroft lifted up the watch out of the box being very careful with it.  He turned it towards the light, to get a better look before he softly opened the watch. 

 

The time was already tuned-in but his attention was drawn to the inscription.  Soft and elegant font made up the words and Mycroft stared again.

“I didn’t know you speak Latin?”  He muttered finally.  Greg laughed and run his hand through his hair.

“I don’t, I asked Anthea – that assistant you hired – for help.  I wanted it in English but she said that Latin would be more appropriate because of your line of work.  A sentimental message from a boyfriend may be frowned upon, but a Latin phrase may not be a concern.  She translated it as well, I struggled to find the right words because there wasn’t enough space, I mean how do you say ‘ _I love you more and more every day and ever since I met you I really started to live, and you have my heart and soul and body forever and ever_ …’ and so on. 

Mycroft pulled Greg into a smouldering kiss, when they broke apart they rested their foreheads together trying to catch their breath.

“ _Semper_ _inveniet anima tua_.  My soul will always find yours.  Very poetic and inspiring.” 

“It’s true, my soul met yours before we even met, on that day in the street, and you found me in your dream so it doesn’t matter where we are in the world, or in dreams our souls will find each other.” 

Mycroft kissed him again before he pulled him close.

“My soul only started to live since I met you. And yes, dreams or reality, my soul, my mind and my heart will find you, it’s where it’s home.” 

They held on tight to one another just basking in the moment and that’s how they fall asleep a few minutes later, tight in each other’s arm, their hearts light.

*****

By the time Mycroft woke up, he was surprised to find, several hours had passed, and it was already late afternoon.  The fire had faded, only small glistening coals and small flames remained.  They would have to add wood.  He gave a small smile as he realized he has never slept this much in many many years.  He did after he woke from the coma, but that sleep was more of a scapegoat from reality and trying to dream more.  He didn’t.  He slowly manoeuvred himself out from Greg’s tight grasp, trying to find his balance while at the same time keep his long legs from finding the floor without waking Greg.

When he finally stood upright he congratulated himself on a job well done. 

 

With one last glance at Greg he ruffled Greg’s hair before kissing his cheek softly and taking the overthrow and covering him.  He then picked up his watch and made his way upstairs to put it away.

 

Standing in the middle of the room he watched their stuff together and felt his heart weaken.  This is everything he ever wanted.  He didn’t know how long he stood there just basking in the idea that he finally is living his only dream.  He put the watch away and then he picked up a package and a large brown envelope.  His finger caressed over the envelope and with a light heart he made his way back downstairs.

 

Greg woke up a few minutes after Mycroft left feeling the difference in temperature and the fact that he wasn’t holding onto a soft and strong body but in fact was on a sofa cushion that just didn’t compare.  His eye caught the table and noticed the watch was gone; Mycroft probably went to put it away.  Greg yawned widely and then stretched his body like a cat in every direction.  Standing up, he left the overthrow for later and added a few pieces of wood to the fire before he picked up the tray of food and went to the kitchen.   A fresh pot of tea would be great right about now, and some fruit cake.

In the kitchen he busied himself with the kettle and packing away the dirty dishes and bowls before getting the small plates for the cake and cups for the tea.  His eyes caught the outside; the snow was falling again softly, covering the earth in another fresh layer of white fluff.  His mind drifted to how they ended up here.  It was back in November when Mycroft expressed his desire that they could spend their Christmas away from the world, just a small cottage in Scotland and just the two of them.  Greg was very keen with the idea of having Mycroft all to himself and told him to book it.  Then again, his and Mycroft’s idea of a small cottage differ quite a lot.  This place was a small mansion but he will not complain, it is the best holiday he has ever had.

 

He still can’t believe how they ended up together, and the circumstances that brought them together seemed so unreal that he can only describe it as ‘fate’ and ‘destiny’.

 

The mission that took Mycroft abroad when he was in hospital, recovering from the shooting, was the last field work assignment Mycroft took.  He rescued Anthea that became a valuable asset and Mycroft decided no more legwork and focusing on his career and the path he wanted to undertake being in the shadows, pulling the strings.

He confided once to Greg, that he was hesitant for that and didn’t mind the legwork much as he didn’t really care whether he came home or not, but ever since they got together he finally accepted that his life was moving in a different direction, one which required a ‘higher level of security and clearance’ but he was ready.

Greg knew without any doubt that Mycroft was well on his way to become one of the most important men in the British Government but only time will tell if he is right.

 

Greg was so busy and in thought that he didn’t see Mycroft stepping in to the kitchen watching him.

“What are you thinking my dear?”  Mycroft asked as Greg turned to him, a wide grin.

“How lucky we are.  Here, your tea.”  Mycroft took the cup.

“Thank you, it is perfect.  I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Greg shook his head.

“No, your absence woke me.” His eye caught the box Mycroft had in his hand.

“What’s that?”  He asked, his face already splitting in half of joy and excitement, he knew exactly what that was.

“Your present my dearest.”  Greg put the cup down and reaches out to it, his eyes as bright as a child’s on Christmas morning.  Mycroft held the package out of his grasp.

“No.”  Greg stared dumbfounded

“No…? What?”

“I won’t give you your present standing in the middle of the kitchen surrounded by food.  This is my first present to you, and I want to do it right, it required the right atmosphere and above all, it needs to be handle with care.  Let’s go to the sofa.”  Greg eyed him with his puppy dog eyes but sighed and nodded before he followed Mycroft out to the living room, the fire bright again after he put the wood on.

Mycroft sat down on the sofa and Greg nearly jumped on it, his legs folded and his arms holding out for the package.  Mycroft rolled his eyes at the excited and exuberance Greg never seized to contain and he can’t help but wonder how he got so lucky.

“Careful, it is quite rare.”

“Rare?”  Greg asked but nevertheless opened the package with haste but delicateness.  When Greg lifted the vinyl up to remove the last piece of wrapping paper he choked out loud and his eyes widen as big as saucers.  The cover and vinyl was in prestige condition.  Greg turned it several times making sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

“My…this…is…”

“Mycroft smiled brightly and nodded.

“But….how…this…rare…it’s more than rare…it is one of the most sought after vinyl in the world, the most valuable, worth thousands….”

“I know, but their music never appealed to me.”

“What! This is a classic it opened the doors to rock…the Sex pistols’s “God save the Queen” is one of the most classical songs ever.  How much did you pay? Where did you found it?”

Mycroft laughed at Greg’s reaction before he answered.

“Although I know what it is worth, I didn’t buy it.  My uncle gave it to me when I was a teenager and he was a fan, he bought it the day it was released, he bought two, one for him and one for me, I kept it, but never listened to it.”

“Wow…”

“Also you know this isn’t really my taste but you are a fan and I know it belongs with you, someone who truly understands the importance and value of it. Who would appreciate it.”

“Are…you sure?  This is massive.”

“It’s nothing compared to the value I have with you.”

“Saying stuff like that will make me have you right here and now, in front of the fire place.”

Mycroft blushed at that and Greg smirked before he looked back to the record.

“Thank you.  Even though I know this belongs in a museum, I can’t help but wanting to keep it all for myself, for me and you.”

“And you shall.  The day I saw you in your faded jeans and punk rock shirt, I knew it will truly have a home with you….like my home is with you.”

Greg leaned over to pull Mycroft in a kiss.

“You’re my home too…it was fate…we only had to follow it.  It will always be you and me….and the vinyl.” He added as an afterthought that made Mycroft snorted out loud and kissed him again.

“Saying things like that and I might just have you in front of the fireplace.”

Greg winked

“I love a challenge.”  He replied and kissed Mycroft again.  It was passionate, slow and soft, promising that tonight there will be lovemaking in front of the fire, and it would be memorable.   As he moved down Mycroft’s jaw his eye caught the envelope.  He stopped kissing.

“Greg….”  Mycroft whined at the loss of contact.

“What’s that?  You didn’t bring work with did you?” Greg asked eying the envelope with hesitation. Mycroft looked at the envelope then back at Greg before he shifted and sat up.  He stood up and took the envelope and hand it to Greg who took it wearily.

“No, I didn’t bring work home…this is…” Mycroft trailed of and started pacing, he made his way to the window glancing out trying to get his words right.  Greg started to become a bit confused but continued to look at Mycroft, he knew Mycroft by now that he needs time sometimes to get the right words.  He doesn’t do emotions so well, and needs a moment.

“When I was in the coma life was perfect, it was more than that, it was idyllic. When I woke up, I was completely heartbroken; I have never felt as alive as in that dream.  I spent it with you, and we were so happy and perfect, you were a firefighter, my mind remembered the uniform and the night I was rescued from the fire, but never mind that, the life we had, that we shared, was tucked away so deep in my heart and mind, I tried so hard to ignore that, until the dream.  The idea of being so loved, of being in my own family, marrying someone, having children, it was like a dandelion in the wind, not real.”  He was quiet a moment as he remembered and Greg was listening to him, his heart shattering for this man making a promise to himself that he would do everything in his power to make sure Mycroft feels that love in real life.  Oblivious Mycroft went on.

“In my dream we decided to get married and we did.  No problem, no law against that.  It is impossible in England to do that…until now…but I realised that this is what I wanted.  I want the chance to live a normal life, to make decisions just like a straight couple even if I had never met you in real life again and our paths didn’t cross.”  Mycroft turned around to look at Greg.

“If you open the envelope you would find the Draft of Civil Partnership Act.  This is the proposal to make it happen, I realise there is still a long road ahead, but it isn’t an impossibility anymore, in about three to four years by my calculations it would be legal.”

Greg’s mouth fell open and he took out the papers.

“But…how….”

“Nothing is impossible, when you know the right people and are in the right place, there have been men for decades trying to make it legal and I, along with some ‘colleagues’, are just following the path, the last stretch of the race so to speak.”   Greg stood up and walked to Mycroft his eyes filled with unshed tears as he pulled Mycroft into the tightest hug he could.

“Are you telling me that we could have more?  More than this?  A family as you say?”

“In a few years, yes, we can have it all, we could be everything we want my dearest.”

“I want it all, I want it with you, I want it all.  Forever.”

 

 

 

* _Lyrics by Depeche Mode: “ Halo”- Violator 1990_

**Author's Note:**

> if you want to see the cottages which inspired us..
> 
> http://greatnorthlodges.co.uk/lodge/beaver-creek-lodge/
> 
> thanks to my friend on tumblr @imaginedilestrade for her hints about Scotland, cakes and the village of Luss.


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